29 March 2010

Happy ever after in the market place

Just a quick note in case anyone is worried about the metro bombings:

I'm ok, everyone from Dickinson is ok, we're all ok.
Our classes don't start that early, so no one was out at the time of the attacks.

Not gonna lie, I feel a little weird. I don't actually feel unsafe, it's just strange to be this close to it all. You hear about terrorist attacks and horrible things happening everyday, but I've never been so close to it.
Growing up isn't so fun sometimes.

It's funny (well "funny" might not be the best word here, but let's stick with it), I was thinking the other day: Moscow is so honest. It doesn't hide the bad. Old Soviet structures in need of repair are crumbling apart; homeless people are sleeping in the metro and on the streets, huddled together in underground passages; packs of stray dogs are running around, searching for anything to eat; thousands of people have come from provincial towns to somehow make enough money to survive; shady deals and corruption aren't uncommon. In spite of all that, maybe because of all of that, I really appreciate Moscow. I appreciate its often harsh honesty. Moscow isn't sugarcoated, and that's refreshing.
Of course when things aren't sugarcoated, they can be hard to handle.


But,
the Russians sill love the Beatles
and life still goes on.

21 March 2010

I love you and will bring you goat's milk

This post will best be read while listening to this song, called "Good to live in the east" by Sergei Nikitin, a singer of the Russian author song genre. Author song is this nifty little Russian term for singers who write poetry and sing them to simple guitar melodies.
Anyways, this song talks about how good it is to live in the east, eating delicious food, laying in the sun's warmth, etc etc.



Our first big trip of the semester took us about 700 km east of Moscow to Kazan, the capital of the Tartarstan republic of Russia. Leaving on a Friday night, we once again took a sleeper train (which I am growing quite fond of) and 14 hours later arrived to a sunny (although cold), Saturday Kazanian morning. After making our way to our wonnnnderful hotel (the showers were nicer than my apartment in Moscow, sigh), we rested a little and then set off to explore Kazan.
First on the agenda was a tour of the kremlin. This kremlin is different from others we had been to and has a mosque! It was a very nice refreshing change from the orthodox churches, and we
even got to observe people doing prayers. All very interesting.
























After the Kremlin tour we walked down the main pedestrian street for a while, snapping pictures and being crazy tourists as per usual. The day ended with a lovely* little trip to the National museum of the Tatarstan republic.


Leaving the kremlin; the building to the right is the lovely little museum.

A lot of the buildings were slightly old and decrepit looking. I love it. Also it was cold and full of ice. Awesome.

Peter and Paul's cathedral through a gutted-out building on Bauman street.

Strolling down Bauman street.

Dancing on Bauman street.

Dome reflecting Bauman.


We awoke the next day after a fantastically relaxing night's sleep and headed down to breakfast in the hotel's cafe. The woman who gave us our food was the epitome of our host mothers/Russian women: bringing endless mounds of food and then forcing us to eat. It was glorious. After all the food, we set off to Sviyazhsk island, founded by Ivan the Terrible in 1551. Basically there are lot of old churches here, full of lots of icons and frescoes and so on and so forth. En route to the island, we drove by the Volga river. I'm pretty sure the Volga is to the Russians as the Mississippi is to Americans: epic. So, it was cool to see THE VOLGA (ooooh, ahhhh) in person, but, well, it was kind of all frozen over and covered in snow, slightly taking away from its epicness level. Alas.

On the island. See all the white stuff near the greenish trees? That's snow. On water.


The church is called "The Joy of all Sorrows."

It was built from 1898-1906.

And is crumbling.

However, it is under restoration.



Phil's triumphant return (from petting a kitty, I think).


The main attraction on this island is to be found in the Cathedral of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary:


This, my friends, is St. Christopher. St. Christopher was quite the stud, and it was decided that since he was so studly, his image would distract worshipers and therefore he had to be depicted as a horseman. I've definitely never seen anything like this in any other orthodox church; it was an unexpected and lovely** (in a non-distracting way, of course) surprise.



After our three hour tour it was high time to eat something and we set off along the oh so bumpy roads, at last finding ourselves in a cafe serving traditional Tartar food. For most of the trip I had the sense that Kazan wasn't used to having many foreigners; when we walked into this cafe, people couldn't stop staring. It could have been because we were all having horrible hair days, but I think our foreignness was the main cause. However, a little staring didn't stop me from devouring the best chicken noodles soup I've had (yeah, that's Tartar...) along with uchpuchmakh (pronounced "ooch-pooch-mahk"), a little triangle pastry thing filled with mystery meat and cabbage mixture. De.Li.Cious. Kelly also had the brilliant idea of ordering food to go for our impending 14 hour return trip to Moscow.



After a brief rest back at the hotel, we set off to the theatre to see a Tartar play, "Dilyafruz - remake". As is suggested by the name, Dilyafruz is a remake of a Soviet play/musical.
Also, it was hilarious.
Also, it was in Tartar.
However, we had headset translators.
In summary, Dilyafruz is the beauty of a provincial Tartar town but finds herself at the center of three suitor's attentions when they discover her picture in Playboy magazine. But, Dilyafruz actually loves a fourth man, Zhamil. Zhamil, of course, also loves Dilyafruz and hasn't even seen her Playboy picture but is too timid to tell her. In the end the three force Zhamil to look at Dilyafruz's picture, who promptly laughs and, calling the others idiots, exclaims "That's not her! Look at her face!" And they live happily ever after. Aww.
The best part? We now know how to say "I love you" in Tartar: "Meen seen-yay yah-rah-tam".





Mosque at night.





Monday brought the coldest day yet, complete with a lovely*** little snow storm. Monday was our day to decide what to do, but sadly most things were closed since it was also a holiday (International Women's day).

Nevertheless, we ventured into the cold and trekked to a craft market in pursuit of Tartar souvenirs.
Along the way to the market we ran into Lenin, who studied at the university in Kazan.

After vendors had fought over our business and souvenirs had been bought, we once again made our way outside and headed back to Bauman street, this time searching for Peter and Paul's Cathedral.

We found Bauman street but were temporarily distracted by the cold/music blasting through the speakers and decided it was time to just dance.


We finally reached our final destination, the uniquely Baroque-style Peter and Paul's Cathedral.



Oh, Kazan also has a metro. I'm afraid after Moscow I will forever be a metro snob, and every other metro system will just be kind of cute in comparison. Kazan's metro has six whole stations and two whole trains. It's very nice and pretty, though. In a word - cute. After riding the metro from the beginning to end and back again, it was time to eat. We returned to an Irish pub we had discovered the night before (another story for another time...) for a very very very very very yummy and much needed warm lunch.


Phil also broke out the presents he got for the girls for International Women's day. Thaaaanks, Phil. :)


After lingering as long as possible in the Irish pub, the time had come to say goodbye to Kazan and return to the real world of Moscow. Armed with our new Tartar language skills, we boarded the train and, of course, did lots of homework. We also talked a little to a Russian guy in a neighboring bunk, on his way to visit friends in Moscow. He didn't really speak Tartar but was able to add to our already impressive knowledge of "I love you": when you say "I love you", you're supposed to also say "kezhe set ashatam" - and so I will bring you goat's milk.


And there you have it, our slightly epic trip east. Oh, one more exciting bit of news: yesterday it rained for the first time since November. SPRING IS NEAR! Maybe?

In any case, I love you all and promise to bring goat's milk.
Until next time!






*Like, ok. I have to admit; I...well....I don't really like history museums. Sorry, mom. I just don't. But um...the museum was nicely arranged?

**This time I'm not being sarcastic in my use of the word "lovely." Just to clarify.

***Sarcasm.

17 March 2010

Just kidding

I take back what I said about spring having sprung.
Spring was just toying with me, taunting me with its "warm" temperatures in the 30s.

There was a blizzard on Monday. Ok fine blizzard is too strong of a word. However, when speaking in terms of what should be spring, there was a huge blizzard on Monday.
Yesterday the high was around 28 Fahrenheit.
Today the high is supposed to be around 23.
BUT. Saturday spring will once again toy with me (or come back for good?) with highs in the low 40s! Inconceivable.

Also yesterday in Visual and Performing Arts class, we were shown this painting, "Portrait of Lopukhina" (1797) by Vladimir Borovikovksy.
I. Love. It.




We also learned that poets like to write poems about portraits; I really like the poem for this portrait (surprising, right?):

Яков Полонский "Портрет Лопухиной"

Она давно прошла, и нет уже тех глаз,
И той улыбки нет, что молча выражали
Страданье - тень любви, и мысли - тень печали,
Но красоту её Боровиковский спас.

Так часть души её от нас не улетела,
И будет этот взгляд и эта прелесть тела
К ней равнодушное потомство привлекать,
Уча его любить, страдать, прощать, молчать.


Yakov Polonsky "Portrait of Lopukhina"

Long since she passed away: no more those eyes,
No more that smile which silently expressed
The suffering of her love and her sad thoughts.
But her beauty Borovikovsky preserved.

Her soul, in part, is therefore with us still,
And this her gaze and this her body charm
Will fascinate indifferent generations,
Teaching them
to love, to suffer, to forgive, to be silent.






Next post about Kazan.
I hope you're all very warm. I'm not jealous.

14 March 2010

Here comes the sun

I would like to start this post with a lovely little number by Peter Nalitch, Russia's singer chosen for Eurovision 2010. I don't really like the song chosen for Eurovision, but a Russian friend showed me this song and, well, you just have to watch.



As you might infer from my lack of posts, I've been a little busy. Classes are going fairly well but most of my time is taken up with my work tutoring and interning at the photo gallery. The other day I was given a new task of correcting English translations on the gallery website as well as translating an article from Russian to English, which has proved to be pretty challenging. The article is about a photographer's most recent photo project and is full of tricky, technical photography/art terms which I don't even know in English let alone Russian. Needless to say, I'm learning a lot. I've also started talking more to the others working at the gallery and have discovered that my Russian actually isn't as bad as I thought it is, and I can even be funny in Russian! It is wonderful. The gallery also opened a new exhibit on Thursday, and I discovered with joy the section of the gallery where they sell books and reprints of all sorts of photographs. Overweight suitcase here I come.

At the end of February and beginning of March I felt like I was stuck in a rut and that my Russian wasn't going anywhere. I so badly want to master this language and learn about this mysterious culture which I am for some reason so drawn to, but at the same time I feel like my head can't handle any more or it will explode. However, I think the rut is ending. I keep realizing how little time I have left (two months whaaaat) and how much I still want/have to do: learn Russian, learn Russian jokes, explore the city parks, learn my way around the city above ground (I have mastered the metro), go to museums and plays and ballets and exhibits, take millions of pictures, something about writing a few papers and doing research, buy souvenirs, take a few trips, and sleep? I'll do the last one later.

Saturday brought the arrival of one of Kelly's friends from Dickinson as well as our Dickinson Russian professor, both visiting for spring break. We went to a chocolate factory and, in Willy Wonka fashion (minus the Oompa Loompas and treacherous chocolate river), had a little tour complete with as many chocolate samples as we could handle. After the chocolate factory we set off, chocolate coursing through our veins, to prepare for a night of festivities. We danced the night (and chocolate) away and even met up with one of our Russian TAs from Freshman year! It was a very successful day which didn't end until 5 in the morning. Fantastic.


Today over a delicious Azerbaijanian lunch we were discussing our research projects, courses to take next year, and future possibilities of life in general, when all of a sudden I had one of those moments where suddenly everything makes sense and you know what you want to do with your life. I won't go into too much detail because I'm still figuring it out, but a little seedling of a plan is starting to grow and it will probably be epic and have something to do with photography and Russia and even a little politics thrown in. Of course this is all very lofty thinking at the moment, but I wanted you to know: I am excited.

As far as the cultural program aspect, we have of course been going to various theaters, dance performances, plays, etc, etc. As my host mom says, I lead a hard life. Later this week we're going to Stalin's bunker. I also still need to go see Lenin; I can't live in Moscow for a year and not see Lenin.

Speaking of my host mom, I still love her. She's totally my third grandma; whenever I'm going to be out late she insists that I call her and always answers the phone "Oh you're still living, eh?"
I do admit at times I get rather annoyed with having to answer to someone all time, but of all the problems I could be having in a host family situation, having someone who at times worries too about my well-being is not the worst. I also sometimes make Mexican food and she of course samples it. Without fail, she takes a little bite and promptly says "Fire! Fire!" ...she doesn't do spicy.


In conclusion, it's been getting warmer: highs in the low 30s!
Now, now, you can try to one up me and claim that a "high" in the "low 30s" is no high at all, and then continue to brag about wearing sandals and shorts and skirts (I'm talking to you, Texans and Pennsylvanians), but the day I realized I could leave the house wearing only one pair of socks was the day I realized that spring had sprung. The birdies even chirp more and the sun actually has warmth to it. ...when the sun shines, that is.

I will post again soon with pictures and videos and stories galore from our most recent eastward adventure to the Tartarstan republic of Russia.
Get ready.

Hope all is well with everyone.